The Unraveling of the Jeff
I’m officially over it… over looking for apartments, over being lost, over having people misunderstand me or talk to me in bad English because they think my Spanish isn’t good enough. Tired of being tired from the parasite and the cold virus and the moving from place to place. Tired of listening to the woman in the next room climax again and again and wondering whether she’s really having that much fun or faking it and... just for a brief moment, wondering if it’s actually a porn movie on the television in the next room and some older guy jacking off to it rather than the sex live in person just inches from my head in this box, the 8th box I’ve lived in since I left SF 3 weeks ago. Going to box #9 here in a couple of days. At least that’s the box within the box of a good friend and should be more comfortable and certainly she will have the courtesy to refrain from loud orgasms while I am the guest.
Hopefully, by then the medication I’m taking for the parasite will have kicked in and I’ll stop having these tragic bathroom emergencies. I was really proud of myself tonight, when I was able to feel the emergency in the making and still able to hold it off long enough to finish my internet café session, eat a gyro and go out to the local gay leather bar for a quick beverage before deciding that I really needed to go and then talking to the gay activist guy at the metro station for like 10 minutes before catching the metro and walking 10 minutes back to my hostel. I should get some sort of medal for intestinal control. That would at least be a silver, right?
On a happier note, I left the gay hostel (good riddance). I take back anything nice I said about the place. The woman who runs the place is a bitch and took some sort of twisted pleasure in the fact that they couldn’t accommodate me for any additional days. Everyone there was sooo unfriendly. The breakfast area in the morning was always full of people and they were all so good at ignoring each other. I have never seen people try so hard not to make eye contact or smile. There was one really cute French gay couple and one single who actually at least gave me weak smiles, but I missed the days of the friendlier hostel mates a couple of days back.
The only nice workers at the hostel seemed to be really overworked by the witch who owned it and the younger one had kind of a Cinderella air about her. She was really pretty in a simple way and always had a few wisps of hair falling out of her ponytail as the sweat dripped down her face from mopping the 50 floors or folding the huge piles of laundry. She’d always gave me a weak smile and tried to answer my questions the best that she could. To top off the evil gay hostel experience, the elevator has been broken the last couple of days. The hostel is on the 5th floor and it’s a total pain to walk in normal circumstances, but today I had to move The Monster big bag to the other hostel. I refused to drag that piece of shit down 5 flights of stairs, so I spent like 10 minutes in the elevator pushing different combinations of buttons to try to fake it out. It seemed like it didn’t like people to go directly from floor 5 to the ground floor, so it would continually open and close and never move when I’d try to go down. Today I finally got it to go down after pushing ground, letting it open and close again, and then pushing 4th floor and then the ground floor buttons (finally). I’m also very very happy that the new hostel owner offered to store The Monster for an indefinite period for 1 Euro a day. I was planning on dropping it at the train station today, where I’m sure they’d charge about the same as the 3 Euro fee at the airport.
I'll end with a happier note on the apartment search. I met with these two Italian cousins last night who sounded optimistic about their room for rent, but it wouldn’t be available until 5/16. That would mean 2 more weeks in hostels. They also said they’d think about other possibilities to help me out in the interim, so I’m supposed to call them on Monday or Tuesday. I’m continuing to call and interview for places just in case that doesn’t come through, though. Ugh.
I’m officially over it… over looking for apartments, over being lost, over having people misunderstand me or talk to me in bad English because they think my Spanish isn’t good enough. Tired of being tired from the parasite and the cold virus and the moving from place to place. Tired of listening to the woman in the next room climax again and again and wondering whether she’s really having that much fun or faking it and... just for a brief moment, wondering if it’s actually a porn movie on the television in the next room and some older guy jacking off to it rather than the sex live in person just inches from my head in this box, the 8th box I’ve lived in since I left SF 3 weeks ago. Going to box #9 here in a couple of days. At least that’s the box within the box of a good friend and should be more comfortable and certainly she will have the courtesy to refrain from loud orgasms while I am the guest.
Hopefully, by then the medication I’m taking for the parasite will have kicked in and I’ll stop having these tragic bathroom emergencies. I was really proud of myself tonight, when I was able to feel the emergency in the making and still able to hold it off long enough to finish my internet café session, eat a gyro and go out to the local gay leather bar for a quick beverage before deciding that I really needed to go and then talking to the gay activist guy at the metro station for like 10 minutes before catching the metro and walking 10 minutes back to my hostel. I should get some sort of medal for intestinal control. That would at least be a silver, right?
On a happier note, I left the gay hostel (good riddance). I take back anything nice I said about the place. The woman who runs the place is a bitch and took some sort of twisted pleasure in the fact that they couldn’t accommodate me for any additional days. Everyone there was sooo unfriendly. The breakfast area in the morning was always full of people and they were all so good at ignoring each other. I have never seen people try so hard not to make eye contact or smile. There was one really cute French gay couple and one single who actually at least gave me weak smiles, but I missed the days of the friendlier hostel mates a couple of days back.
The only nice workers at the hostel seemed to be really overworked by the witch who owned it and the younger one had kind of a Cinderella air about her. She was really pretty in a simple way and always had a few wisps of hair falling out of her ponytail as the sweat dripped down her face from mopping the 50 floors or folding the huge piles of laundry. She’d always gave me a weak smile and tried to answer my questions the best that she could. To top off the evil gay hostel experience, the elevator has been broken the last couple of days. The hostel is on the 5th floor and it’s a total pain to walk in normal circumstances, but today I had to move The Monster big bag to the other hostel. I refused to drag that piece of shit down 5 flights of stairs, so I spent like 10 minutes in the elevator pushing different combinations of buttons to try to fake it out. It seemed like it didn’t like people to go directly from floor 5 to the ground floor, so it would continually open and close and never move when I’d try to go down. Today I finally got it to go down after pushing ground, letting it open and close again, and then pushing 4th floor and then the ground floor buttons (finally). I’m also very very happy that the new hostel owner offered to store The Monster for an indefinite period for 1 Euro a day. I was planning on dropping it at the train station today, where I’m sure they’d charge about the same as the 3 Euro fee at the airport.
I'll end with a happier note on the apartment search. I met with these two Italian cousins last night who sounded optimistic about their room for rent, but it wouldn’t be available until 5/16. That would mean 2 more weeks in hostels. They also said they’d think about other possibilities to help me out in the interim, so I’m supposed to call them on Monday or Tuesday. I’m continuing to call and interview for places just in case that doesn’t come through, though. Ugh.
posted by Chromest*r at 8:16 PM
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